


Silence

by Fienf



Series: The New World [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Dictatorship, Gen, Harry is constantly planning, Kidnapping?, Literally can't stand The Boy anymore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Smart! Harry, The most frustrating thing to type istg, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, if it isn't explained now then it will in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:03:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fienf/pseuds/Fienf
Summary: In which Dumbledore has spent time with Grindelwald more than expected and the world is changed.Slow burn,





	1. Prologue

  The boy was woken up by swift rapts at his door while he lay in his ‘room’, if one could even call it that. It was more like an unfitting dog kennel, even if he was pretty sure dogs got a better treatment than him. The room itself barely kept him in and stretched more upward than outward.

 

  “Get up and help me,” hissed his aunt, ” else there will be consequences.” She never really did like him and it was becoming more apparent day by day. It wasn’t her fault though, not really. He should know better by now than to go against the rules of the house.

 

  “Yes, Aunt Petunia.” He muttered before adding in a quick “Good morning.” He at least had some standards and manners, not to say Petunia didn’t but he was a good Englishman (and doesn’t that sound funny! He sounds like the uncle doting on the boy’s cousin!)

 

  Petunia hesitated outside the door and whispered back, “Good morning.” 

 

  He ruffled his hair a little more and knocked to get out, Petunia complied. He always had to knock to get out of his room else he could be held accountable in anything that went missing or was messed with as everyone held themselves to the same rule. No one out of their rooms from dusk to dawn.

 

  Or, at least, he hoped that’s what everyone else did. Aunt Petunia said so, said that any civilized person did so, but who really knew? It was honor based, after all.

 

  “What did you want me to do today, Aunt Petunia?” He asked as he stretched. She seemed to be in a good mood so he didn’t really want to ruin the mood.

 

  “Just some gardening and housework. Do you think you can do some of the bermuda grass outside?” She got some food out of the fridge.

 

  “You will” Petunia patted him on the head.

 

  “You’ll get them.” And that was that and so he went.

 

  Bermuda grass wasn’t very hard to get up but it was very troublesome. They tended to grow outwards instead of upwards, not to mention they rooted in like a maze. If someone wanted to get rid of them, they either had to just keep cutting the arms or get to the main part of it and uproot it. 

 

  Not that bad, a pretty good warm up, the boy thought. After this, he’d get breakfast and help out Petunia with the work around the house. Not too bad, especially since it was in the middle of the summer months. The heat would appear in an hour or so and by that time, he’d be inside - it was a perfect situation!

 

  He gathered the pulled grass into the green waste bin and rolled it out to the front of the house before going back inside.  The smell of eggs and bacon immediately greeting him like a long lost dog.

 

  “Are you already done?” Aunt Petunia spoke, eyeing him as he took off his shoes.

 

  “Boy! Help your aunt with the food!” The uncle interrupted both of them. He was probably already eating the food, even though most of it wasn’t even done yet. Even though he always yelled at him for eating before them.

 

  “Yes, uncle!” The uncle grunted back at him and a ruffle of paper was heard. Oh right, the uncle picked up reading the newspaper after Aunt Petunia heard some of the neighbors saying anyone who didn’t read the paper were uncivilised. 

 

  They always were susceptible to the spoken word like that. 

 

  The boy dropped his shoes in his room and took the spatula from Aunt Petunia and they both managed the food in silence. He learned how to distance himself from time long ago so, ironically, the time passed quickly and it wasn’t long before the toast, orange juice, eggs, and bacon were placed on the table. The uncle was already sitting down at the table and reading the paper.

 

  “Dudley! Breakfast is ready!” Aunt Petunia called out. All three of them were waiting at the table for Dudley to come down so they could start eating, if they ignored Vernon taking bites of his food already. Those poor pieces of bacon, taken before their time, may they rest in peace.

 

  Dudley thundered down the stairs and skidded into the dining room. He took in the food with a deep breath and a wide smile before greeting them, “Good morning Dad, Mum.” And of course they swooned over him, never mind the fact that it was better manners to greet everyone than to just greet his immediate family. The boy scowled at him before smoothing his face to a polite smile.

 

  “Good morning, cousin, good dreams?” He asked innocently. He knew that he gave Aunt Petunia and the uncle no way to smack him if he acted like a good boy but Dudley wasn’t the same. The boy hated his so called cousin for everything he was worth and his cousin hated him back. Neither knew who started the feud but it existed now so the only way to live was to work with it. 

 

  “Oh, plenty of them, cousin. How was yours?” Dudley said back with a wide grin - as if that’s supposed to be intimidating , the boy inwardly snorted.

 

   “Wonderful, if a bit-” The uncle cut him off.

 

  “Alright, boys, sit down so we may pray before eating, you know how your mother is religious!” The uncle laughed boisterously and shot the boy a sneer, “Don’t make it harder for us than it already is.”

 

  Dudley sat down between The Uncle and Aunt Petunia. They looked like a normal family now, huh. Aunt Petunia wore some floral pattern dress with her apron hanging off her chair, The Uncle sat with a formal/casual suit, and Dudley with his grey sweater and shorts. The boy himself only wore a green shirt and dark blue shorts. 

 

  The whole situation would be the perfect picture of the perfect family if someone weren’t looking deep enough. Looking at the faint scratches on the cabinets in the kitchen. Looking at the scowls and forced grins. Looking at the boy’s room under the stairs. The whole situation is a perfect picture of the perfect family.

 

  The picture perfect family finished praying and the boy stopped his straying thoughts. He never could get into the religious scene, even with going to mass every weekend and even with all the prayers. Uncle Vernon kept calling him an abomination against god and a heathen too, so the boy guessed he could count that as another one of the things that didn’t get him into religion. Not that he would ever tell anyone, telling anyone that he wasn’t into religion was the equivalent of asking someone to drown him - which might end up happening if he did slip up and tell someone.

 

  It was useless to dwell on these things, they just increased the chances of it happening, he thought as he speared a piece of bacon into his mouth. Delicious as always.

 

  They sat in silence and listened to the scraping of forks against the plates and the dull thuds of the cups hitting the table.  The food was gone quickly. Dudley rushed upstairs to spend time doing whatever came to his mind and The Uncle left to go to work. Aunt Petunia and him were all alone now.

 

  “Put the dishes in the sink and start on them. After that, I want you to-" three knocks at the door cut her off. "Who is it?" Petunia called out, walking towards the door. Three more knocks at the door. "Yes, what-"

 

  Five people in black cloaks and black clothing pushed past Aunt Petunia. She thudded against the wall. They thundered around with their black combat boots and black scarves (were they scarves?) covering the bottom half of their faces. One of them grabbed him. Two went upstairs and the other looked around the downstairs. Crashes and thuds and cries came from upstairs - Dudley’s , he thought. Cushions and plates and everything else was upended and thrown.

 

  Petunia and he were pushed up against the kitchen counter where the window was at and made to stand still with their arms in the air, heads forward. Petunia’s cries assaulted him, louder than any scream Dudley, who was being pushed down the stairs, could make in his psyche. Petunia never sobbed like this.

 

  Petunia cried out, “The children! Don’t hurt the children! My child! Please, don’t hurt them!” Now? Now she starts to really care about him? Before, it was mostly silence and scorn. Dudley was being pushed by one of the people to stand beside them in the kitchen. 

 

  Three of them were idly standing there, all watching them, as the other two ransacked the house. The boy wondered if they were robbers, but that didn’t make much sense. Their clothes looked like they were made exactly for them and looked like good quality too, not to mention they left the door wide open. One of their neighbors would’ve surely came over, wouldn’t they have?

 

  As The Boy was in the middle of his relatives, he could look out the door while not being suspicious. It was best for all of them if they complied, right? The cousin was still balling his eyes out and so was the aunt, so maybe it didn’t matter much?

 

  Nevertheless, he looked outside. Across the street, people were being led out of their homes with their hands on their heads by the same dressed people occupying his house. They were being escorted into buses that lined the street, kids being separated from their parents to go into separate buses, teens being sorted randomly between the adult buses and the kids buses - some of them even begging to go with their little siblings and being kicked to the adult buses. The elderly were left behind to sit on their house’ steps and the pets were being put into a big moving truck.

 

  Things were not going good. How the heck did they not hear everyone else then? All The Boy could hear was The Cousin and The Aunt’s cries.

‘

  A woman, and it was easy to tell because she wore a skin tight suit decorated with a black cloak and gold inside the cloak. She didn’t even wear a mask and had a pixie hair cut that changed color every couple of seconds. It kind of reminded the boy of putting all kinds of acrylic paint colors in a cup and swirling it around a couple times. How cool!   
  
  “Alright, troops, is this house all done yet? There’s still people in here!? What have you flobberworms been doing!?” She strode across the floor and grabbed one of the people, slamming them into the wall. He crumpled immediately and didn’t get back up.

 

  “Sir, look at the boy! He holds the mark!” Spoke the boy closest to Dudley.

 

  The woman spun to glare at him then turned to eye everyone lined up. When she got to The Boy she narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. “Huh…” she grabbed his head, turning it in different directions. “Marco, Jack, put the family on board and set fire to the houses!”

 

  “What?!” Petunia shrieked. The two men grabbed her and The Cousin and dragged them outside. As they crossed through the doorway, they were suddenly muted. 

 

  How curious…

  “So, of course, you will be coming with me!” The Boy’s attention snapped back to the woman in front of him. Apparently she had been talking to him. Huh.

 

  “Uh...okay, can I ask why again? Sorry I don’t have a good memory and wow everything is going so fast so-” he was grasping at straws at this point. He didn’t think that she would enjoy the fact that he was zoning off the entire time while she spoke so maybe if he made it seem like he just needed clarification that things would end up better? This would be his time to shine.

 

  She cut him off though, “If you weren’t listening, just tell me. I’m not stupid, compared to some people. Next time you pull that shit on me, someone will be missing something. Consider yourself warned.” She still scowled at him, after rolling her eyes. “Basically, you are apart of a wonderful group so amazing, all this is happening. Congratulations! Now, come with me to get fully introduced, they’re gonna love you.” She grabbed his arm and all went blurry.

 

  Funny, that. Isn’t it supposed to be ‘and everything went black’ ?


	2. Introductions and Reveals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boy is Harry Potter, although he isn't used to being called that. Rejection of that fact leads to me being very angry at having to type The Boy every paragraph.  
> We meet some very important people and Harry makes plans

The Boy eyed his surroundings as his vision slowly cleared up. It was sort of akin to what he thought driving in a race car was like, all blurred lights - blurred everything, really- only to clear up when the car stopped.

Actually that train of thought makes sense, what if the lady drugged him while she was looking at his face and they really did drive in a race car?! Where were they now?!

The Lady gripped his arm and dragged him forward before stopping. They were in a room surrounded by walls covered in chests. Some of them had locks and chains but a good deal of them were bare to open, sort of. None of the chests were the same height or shape and even if they were, the locks were in some random place. The boy particularly eyed the two chests next to each other that looked the same, about two feet tall and three feet across, with the left chest having it’s lock near the top and the right chest near the bottom. He briefly wondered how they worked like that and if the decorator just put one of them upside-down to mess with people before looking around the room again.

The room itself was a dark grey with what looked like thick, steel bars running in symmetrical lines. The bars extended out to hold chests high enough that the chest beneath it could open without difficulty and they also held torches outwards. The room was probably big enough to hold the entirety of the family’s house too, although it went more outward then upward.

At the end of the room sat a desk with a person sitting straight behind it. He kind of looked like a gargoyle, all hunched over and clad in grey.

"Bert, document the boy quickly and give us a lift over to the His Majesty's office." The Lady demanded.

Bert looked up. Unrolling himself from his position, he limped over to one of the chests on his right, one with lock on its front, and it appeared to the boy that the man was now holding a key to open it despite not searching any pockets or drawers.

The Boy'd have to save that for later, maybe he could ask him how to do that? Actually, he should ask what was going on.

"Ma'am-"

The Lady cut him off "Shh, save it for later" she whispered down to him while still eyeing the slow moving man.

The drawer chest popped open outwards towards Bert. It looked like the inside of a file cabinet and acted like it too as Bert sifted through multiple manila files before pulling out one of them and limping back over to the desk.

The Lady reached into her robe and pulled out a golden pocket watch with something engraved in it, although The Boy couldn’t tell what it said, “Hurry, please, Bert. We’re in a bit of a hurry”

“Patience is a virtue, Black.” Bert’s voice was old and gravely, wobbling at every consonant. Was The Lady’s name Black? Food for thought.

“Patience may be a virtue but I’m a lieutenant and I need you to hurry up, we’re going to see His Majesty” She put her hand on his head and gripped it. “We found someone he wants to see.”

“Uh-huh...what’s his name?” Bert was sitting hunched over the desk, looking up at The Boy and scribbling , what The Boy thought was, information about him.

“I have reason to believe it’s Harry Potter.” The Lady smirked as Bert’s movements stopped, slowly looking up to squint at him.

Even though The Boy knew his given name was Harry Potter, it felt disconnected from him. Like calling yourself a title or saying what your favorite color was. He had been called The Boy or Boy so many times, much more than his given name, that it stuck more than Harry. Plain, simple Harry , being called Boy was a much better descriptor in his humble opinion. It said all it needed to about him. 

Bert recovered from his surprise and looked back down at the file. “Huh… that’s good”

“Indeed it is, are you almost finished?” 

“Almost.” Bert got up again and the cracks that came from his back reminded Harry of fire crackers. How old was this guy? He had so many wrinkles that sea lions would be jealous! Or was it seals? Harry wasn’t sure but one thing he was sure about was that the outfit the old man was wearing definitely wasn’t from this time period. 

The old man wore a veritable night gown with how it draped over is appendages and with the beige waistcoat over it, it made a weird sight. His hair stuck everywhere and was pure white. The beige over black certainly made a statement. 

Bert clambered over to Harry with a measuring stick in hand. “Be sure to hold still.” And took the measuring stick, comparing it to all places on Harry. His arms, his legs, his ears, his nose, his head, his feet, and even , as embarrassed as Harry might say it, his crotch area. 

When that happened, Harry almost kicked the kneeling man in the face but the tightening of The Lady’s hand on his shoulder coupled with Bert’s stare dead in his eye made his short rebellion shrivel up inside him. So he stood stiff and stared at Bert for the few seconds it took.

“All done. Thank you for your patience.”

“Uh Huh. Let’s go.” Lady...Black? Spoke to him. He couldn’t really remember if that was her name. What if he remembered wrong? Or what if that conversation didn’t really take place and it was a figment of his imagination? It didn’t matter as long as he confirmed that name before he said it out loud, if he ever did beforehand. 

The Lady Black took his shoulder again and the world disappeared. He closed his eyes this time. Last time, he got a little dizzy, in hindsight. In another hindsight, wasn’t Bert supposed to bring them over to...what was it they called the person? His Majesty? Wasn’t it Her Majesty last time he checked? They were under the jurisdiction of Great Britain as they were sort of like a colony?

Harry wasn’t sure anyone really knew. All anyone could tell him is that they were under Great Britain and they had their own government that was mostly independent of Britain. Even The Uncle couldn’t tell him the circumstance of Wicland.

He opened his eyes when he felt his arm being gripped to pull him down to kneel.  
“Ah, Nymphadora, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out sifting through the countryside by now? It is tedious work and as I remember it, you were quite excited!” Spoke a person, although it sounded like he was the same age as Harry so why were they kneeling and why did it sound as if the other boy had authority over The Lady? Nymphadora?

They were in an office of some sort with white tiles and grey walls. Bookcases lined the grey walls, which occasionally peeked out through the space in between the book cases. In front of them lay two spiraled, marble staircases leading up to a desk in front of a giant window displaying a pale grey sky. Astronomy stuff lay behind the desk as well but it was hard to see at the angle Harry knelt at. Various other doo dads lay around the room but The Boy had no idea what they were for.

Harry looked up as steps came from one of the staircases to see a boy with dark brown hair and green-ish blue eyes. He was dressed in a fine suit that didn’t look too stuffy or overbearing as opposed to when the other boys Harry spotted wearing suits looked. Wow, he really knew how to dress. The other boy idly swirled a glass chalice.

Ideas came to his mind- is that how he commanded respect? Gained power? Oh wow, what if The Boy dressed like that! Would he be able to command Nymphadora like that? Although it would certainly be awkward as she looked older than him. Maybe in her teenage years or older? Harry couldn't tell well.

Nymphadora (?) brought her head up, but still stared downwards at the other boy’s feet. Or maybe it was the ground beneath his feet? Egh, still weird. “Your Majesty, I have reason to believe that this is Harry Potter.” The glass fell out of the other boy’s (His Majesty’s ?) hand.

“Is this true? You, stand.” Even without pointing, Harry knew His Majesty was talking to him and that made him all kinds of nervous. He could practically poop out a diamond at this point. Why was he so suddenly speaking with the apparent ruler of Wicland? 

Oh God, he was wearing his pyjamas as opposed to these two finely dressed people - and one of them was the King of Wicland! He inwardly panicked as he stood up- too fast! His mind shouted.

“Oh-oh, hello, Your Majesty!” The Boy did a bow he hoped was good enough.

His Majesty snorted, “Ahh, so cute! Nymphadora, thank you, you may return to your post.Next time though, don’t go barging in here without so much as a warning” The other boy didn’t even look at Nymphadora as she stood up and bowed before walking out a door Harry heard behind him. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the Ruler of Wicland though.

“So...Harry Potter, it is so good to see you after all these years, although I doubt you remember me. I bet you have questions, do ask.” He leaned on the handrail, propping up his elbow against it. 

Harry was struck with the realization that the rail was taller than the ruler and tried really hard to keep any sort of amusement off of his face.  
a  
“Er, yes. What exactly is going on? I was making breakfast when you guys barged into the house and took me here. How did I even get here? I don’t remember any of it! And who are you?!” He didn’t really want to make a ‘You drugged me!’ accusation to His Majesty. Harry really doubted that would go down well. Since he was the king, wasn’t he supposed to have a better office?”

The other boy chuckled. “Well hello to you too. To answer some if your questions, I am called Albus. You were brought here because you are an important person. To me, especially.” Albus smirked at him.

“What do you mean, important to you?” He reaaally didn’t mean to cut His Majesty off.

“You are. I will tell you more later...maybe. But the first thing you have to learn is that you are not to question me.” Yeah that sounded suspicious as all get out not to mention alarming. 

His Majesty looked expectant at him,” Uhh… Ok?” Albus looked really pleased with himself. Maybe he wanted to be friends with Harry but was one of those kids who didn’t know how to make friends properly? Harry smiled back at him.

“That’s good. What I’m about to tell you may sound a little weird but I believe that you can handle it.” He stared at Harry for a second then continued talking.” You, as I am and as many people are, were born with Magic. We can do things many people can not- with ease!” Not the weirdest thing that was said to him but Harry was willing to believe it if it helped his chances. 

“I’m glad you are in understanding of the circumstances. Now, since you are mine now, you will do whatever I ask of you.” Harry felt alert, what did he mean by his?! Albus looked amused at his panic too, to make things worse. “To make things permanent, we have to undergo a ritual that you may not like but I think I’ll save that till the day you mess up.”

Harry stilled. Messing up could mean anything. What would constitute as messing up? What would Albus make him do? Not anything too bad, right? What would happen if he messed up? Would he torture Harry? Would he kill Harry? What would happen? He would have to watch each action they both did now - his own to self regulate any mishaps and Albus’ to get a better idea of what he would consider a mess up.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” If Harry wasn’t so used to watching people’s expressions, he would’ve missed it- a flash of anger crossed Albus’ face. Or should he call him His Majesty? 

If he really was the king of Wicland, why is he so young? Why did he permit Harry to call him by Albus? Well, he didn’t really permit Harry, just said that’s what he was called but it could be a permission and Harry could certainly play it off as childish error. Besides, things weren’t adding up. Albus was young, he certainly would’ve heard of a child king ruling them, and the office? Not as grand as it could be.

Albus himself didn’t even seem all that stable, bouncing between smug and anger and a lot of emotions in between that Harry couldn’t really name. His threats against Harry was also weird.

“You make it sound like I will be doing a job for you, what did you want me to do?” Harry carefully phrased his words to make it so it wasn’t quite obvious that he wasn’t completely open to the idea. Albus could be smart enough to catch onto that and if he was, well, it just meant Harry would have more information to plan anything in the future against him. 

Albus studied Harry closer then relaxed as Harry kept up his innocent face. “I want you to do anything that is required of you at the moment, although I will have you there with me mostly to keep track of stuff that is happening while I am in a meeting or in any other important event.” Harry blinked and Albus had another chalice in hand. Was this what he was talking about earlier? “Since we have indefinitely closed our borders and removed almost all tourists and those who came here for other reasons, there will most likely be requests for meetings and interviews and such. Those are what you will be in too, as my assistant.”

At this point, Harry was just standing there awkwardly in the office with wide eyes and an open mouth. This definitely wasn’t sounding good for anyone. 

“Uhh...okay,that doesn’t sound too bad, I guess…” He muttered once he got over his shock.

Albus hummed, “Indeed. We will get you a desk in here as well and you will need to do various stuff for me, be my proxy in places. You will accept the job, right?”

Oh no, he was trapped. “Yeah, sure.” When in doubt, just say yes. Especially when you’re talking to a king.

“Wonderful! Before that though, you will need to learn more about the society we are in, general education, and how to behave around others. We will have a room for you here which another person will lead you to, outside the door.” Albus clapped his hands and walked back up the stairs to his desk again. If that wasn’t a dismissal, Harry didn’t know what was.

Even though The Boy was used to this treatment, it stung getting it from someone that The Boy expected to treat him better. He thought His Majesty would’ve been different than The Boy’s Family.

From The Boy’s little test earlier, Albus was definitely smart. He understood The Boy’s phrasing and maybe he fell for his innocent act too, although that was a small maybe. He knew he had small faith in himself but it didn’t hurt to be extra cautious.

The Boy moved to go outside the door because, hey, didn’t His Majesty say something about there being someone out side that would escort him to his room while he worked for him? He hoped so, it would be really awkward if there wasn’t and His Majesty didn’t seem like one to trick and play games with him like that - not to mention said person didn’t stop him from going out the doors.

Speaking of the doors, they were tall. Very tall. Maybe six times the height of The Boy and carved with intricate knots and playing animals that seemed to move across the wood. Amazing. 

Is this an example of the abilities that he was talking about? Wow, The Boy’s past family would’ve hated this.

The door knob that was taller than The Boy moved down the door to be a good enough height for him to use. It was a silver looking thing and , from the feel of it and by the way that Harry 'accidentally’ knocked against it, it wasn’t as hollow as it could be and it was actual silver. Not the cheap, metallic knobs that you could get at a store for fifteen.

The door slid open slowly and Harry was greeted to a sudden drop of stone. Stone seemed to be popular around here, must be cold in the winter, The Boy thought idly. An older woman was also there, dressed in a dark green suit and a black waistcoat

Were suits a popular choice here or was it, like The Boy suspected earlier, of a status symbol?

The woman stood with what The Boy imagined was good posture for a lady of status, as Aunt Petunia called it. She was obsessed with appearing to be of better breeding than the others in the neighborhood, even if she didn’t say so out loud. Hopefully this new woman wasn’t like this.

“Are you the one we’ve been expecting? The Potters’ child?”

“Huh? Oh...yeah, I guess that’s me?” He looked up at her. She was a tall woman, especially to Nymphadora.

“Good. Follow me.” She turned sharply towards the drop and tapped her foot two times.

A dull grinding noise rose from the bottom of the drop. It came closer and closer until The Boy could see little bumps erupt. The bumps soon turned to a head and the head to a body then gnarly feet. Harry could recognize that shape! It was a gargoyle!

According to the lore he’s read before, they protected places against bad things. They were mostly in graveyards, however, some ‘heathens’ , once again, as Aunt Petunia called them, put them in and around their house for protection along with other stuff they used. Like, satanic rituals and sacrificing dead animals.

Was His Majesty a heathen?! 

“Come, Mr. Potter. I will lead you to your room. I am Professor McGonnagal , a Professor here at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a place for magical children to train and better themselves away from Muggles who seek to corrupt them or don’t know how to handle them.” As she explained this, they stayed at the top step. The staircase pulled itself back down again, twisting in a three-sixty and ending at the bottom facing outward. 

“There’s certain rules you have to follow while you’re here though. For example, no fighting in the hallways, no contraband, and no outside communication unless permitted.” One long hallway later and they stood at a fork. They turned right, “This is for a reason which you’ll soon figure out. We have multiple schools like this all around the country but you’ll probably not go to the others often.” He’d have to file that away for later. Maybe a connection could be made between the schools to talk with them?

Would they even trust him though? He would work for the king even as a student and that would mean that they wouldn’t see him as one of them. He knew how this stuff worked, he studied the others around him for a long time. It was easy to see patterns like this when you lived it. This would just be another version of it, a more amplified version.

It would make it harder for him to escape if he had to. As someone close to someone like Albus, he would be very well known. 

“You will be staying with some of the other kids around your age. We separate children by their age for living arrangements and by knowledge for their studies. A good system, no?” She turned toward him.

The Boy had zoned out for a while and now he didn’t know the way back to Albus’ office or any important spots! He may have even skipped what Professor McGonnagal was saying.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty good.” He vaguely knew what she was talking about but hey, a yes was better than disagreeing and causing a fight.

"Wonderful. Here's where you'll be staying." In front of them lay a door, small and inconspicuous. It swung open to reveal a room of people Harry had never seen before and one person he has.


End file.
